


Fate

by Tantaylor



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: A lot of blushing, M/M, be loud, be powerful, be strong, country life, love making, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor
Summary: Everything is going wrong in Roger's life right now. His boyfriend has left him and his neighbour does not like gays. Or maybe he does? Maybe that grumpy old man is helping to make up for his fate.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), Roger Taylor(Duran Duran)/OMC
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-reunion-era
> 
> English is not my mother tongue, no beta. 
> 
> Please leave feedback,  
> Thank you.

The sweat dripped into Roger's eyes, burning like hell. It was a good cover for the silent tears he wouldn't have allowed himself otherwise.

The wooden beam slipped out of his hands; the sheep were staring stupidly. 

He could not do it, alone. You couldn't repair a gate on your own.  
He would have to ask his neighbour Cam for help. Cam of all people.

"Watch out," he instructed the two border collies. Khanada and Rio. For old times' sake. 

Reluctantly he went into the house. This big, empty house.  
Xander had really chosen a good time to leave him. Not that it was unexpected. All they'd done for weeks was fight. Roger had slept in the guest room. What drove him crazy when he thought of it. It was his own house, dammit, Xander should have slept in the guest room.  
Now he had to call Cam, from the farm a few miles down the road.  
He didn't like Cam, and Cam didn't like him.

To the old farmer, he was a spoiled pop star fag.  
He had barely been able to accept Xander, but after all Xander came from here, had grown up here. And that he was gay was of course Rogers' fault.  
Sure thing. A 35-year-old man suddenly turned gay because a stupid ex-pop star fag crossed his path.  
Roger reached for the phone and dialled. 

“Yeh?"

"Good morning, Cameron."

"Who`s there?"

"Roger. Roger Taylor, from the RX.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, Cam, I'm really sorry to bother you, but if you don't want my sheep to destroy your vegetable patch, I need your help. During the storm last night the old birch tree crashed into the gate.”

“I told Alexander weeks ago that he has to fell it. The thing was completely rotten.”

“He never told me about that. He moved out last month.” 

“Oh.” Click.

What the hell?  
That bastard! He had actually hung up on him!  
“Fuck!”

Finally, almost four weeks after Xander left, Roger allowed himself to break down, to wallow in self-pity.  
He heard neither the car nor the dogs barking and almost had a heart attack when someone patted his back.  
“It's all right, son, we can handle this. It's gonna be all right. Alexander has always been a selfish asshole. He's not worth crying over.”

This must have been a dream. There was no way the grumpy Cameron could actually comfort him. And had he just called him son? That was totally crazy.

“Come on, you can cry later. Now we'll fix the gate. Can you handle a hammer?”  
Roger`s sobs turned into hysterical laughter.

They worked together amazingly well and Cam seemed impressed, even though his vocabulary was obviously used up with the comforting words earlier.  
The gate was quickly repaired and the old neighbour was already on his way, without a word.

"Cam, wait. Can I offer you breakfast, or at least coffee? Anything?”

The wrinkled, sunburned face literally lit up.  
“Eggs? Bacon? Beans?”

“Full English. Including mushrooms.”

“Gladly!”

Cam looked around curiously as he entered the house. He had never been in here before.  
“Nice place you have here.”

“Thank you. Feel free to look around. Or sit down, whichever you prefer. I'll make us breakfast. Would you like coffee or tea?”

“Coffee. As strong as possible.”

Roger went into the kitchen while Cam looked at the living room.  
That was beyond weird.

When they finally sat together at breakfast, Cam seemed to have lost the ability to speak yet again.  
He did not seem to feel particularly comfortable either. What was wrong with the man?  
Roger cleared his throat.  
“I thank you for your help. And I don't just mean the gate. I'm sorry you had to see me like that, because even though I'm what you said, a pop star fag, I'm actually not a cry baby. You probably don't want to hear this, but I... I loved Xander and I'm suffering because he's gone.”

Not for the world would he have reckoned with what Cameron said now.  
“Did you use condoms?”

“I really don't see how that concerns you!” Roger was stunned, to say the least.

“I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I guess it's my duty, because of this disease, you know. Not that Xander gave it to you.”

“What?” Everything suddenly became cold. Freezing cold. Roger was breathing ice; it stung his lungs.

“I caught them. Three months ago, in my barn. Alexander and this guy who buys my vegetables. A view that I would have gladly done without, God knows. I wanted to tell you, but, well, we weren't exactly friends, and I didn't know...maybe that was okay. Maybe that's what you gays do, what do I know."

“Cameron, would you please leave me alone?” It was cold. So cold.

Two weeks later:  
Roger turned into the driveway and would have loved to sing out loud. But he couldn't sing, he was a drummer. Well, back in the day. Now he was a farmer.

For the first time in weeks, the world was okay again. What a wonderful day.  
Negative. The word you wanted to read on your HIV test. The most beautiful word in the world when printed under your test results. Roger whistled to himself. He couldn't whistle very well either, but he could definitely whistle better than sing. Negative. He felt as if he had been given a new life, and he would enjoy this life.  
Maybe he would call the cute guy from the hospital who recognised him and gave him his number. But not today. Today he would get drunk, listen to the old Duran records and ceremoniously burn everything Xander had left behind. Every goddamn photograph and all those stupid books about old English front doors. Honestly, whoever collected books about old English doors?

“Someone seems to be in a very good mood.”

He almost dropped the whisky bottle he brought.  
“Geez, Cam! What are you doing here?”  
They had neither seen nor spoken to each other in the last two weeks. Since Cameron had told him that Xander had been fucking the vegetable guy. 

“I fixed the shutter on your kitchen. That must have rattled awfully, man! And one of your sheep is terribly fat. It's not good for the animals.”

“This is Molly, Molly just loves to eat.”

“You give them names? They are farm animals, not lapdogs.”

“I am gay, I give my animals names.” 

“You are all crazy, you faggots.”

“Yes, and this one faggot standing in front of you right now is also a very happy faggot. Come inside, we're celebrating.”

Only after Roger had put on a record, their debut, and poured them both plenty of whisky, did Cam ask:  
"What are we actually celebrating?"

“My new life, Cameron. My new, healthy, wonderful life.”  
Cameron's comprehension was better than he had thought.  
“So, he didn`t give it to you? That plague that killed Rock Hudson?”

“I need another test in a few weeks, but that`s just routine. I know I can`t have it, because…well, there was not much going on in the last weeks before he left.”

“That`s good news, son."

“It is, isn't it? Slainte.” 

“Been a while since I had whisky before noon,” the older man chuckled.

They didn`t talk much. That was ok.  
Roger leaned back, listening to the songs he hadn`t heard in quite a while and found himself smiling.

That was a good rhythm. Fast. God, he was so young, back then. They were good. Young. Pretty.

Cameron`s quiet chuckle brought him back, and he blinked. The music had stopped.  
“That`s the band you played in, huh?”

“Aye. Our first album.”

“And you`re the drummer.”

“How did you know?”

“The air-drumming you did for minutes now was a hint. Are you still playing?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because the past is not the place to be.”

“Why does the band no longer exist?”

“Oh, it still exists.”

“Then why are you not in it anymore?"

“I actually liked you much better when you talked less.” Roger poured another round of whisky.

“Let me be honest, Roger. You don't belong here. You're not a farmer. I admit I underestimated you, but you're still not a farmer. You are a drummer.”

“We wanted to make a B&B out of the house. Buy horses. We had plans. I thought it would be possible now. Now you can be openly gay and do a job where you meet a lot of people, unlike in 1986. Although the comparison is enormously misleading. A B&B and Duran Duran are hardly comparable.”

“What happened in 1986?”

“I left the band. Officially at least. Actually I haven't been around since summer 85, since Live Aid.”

“And you left because you`re gay?”

Roger nodded, drinking off his whisky.  
This was exactly what he had not wanted to think about. That's exactly why he heard the songs so rarely. It would have been the fitting soundtrack for another conclusion in his life. For yet another ending and a new beginning, but he had not expected Cameron's questioning.  
“At that time, an outing meant the end of any career, or so I thought. We were big, Cameron, really big. We were world stars. I thought that if I admitted to being gay, it would mean that the others would suffer. My friends, my band. So I quit. I haven`t talked to any of them ever since.”

Cam leaned forward, his hazel eyes studying Roger`s face.  
“But you miss them. And you miss drumming."

“Yes. Can we change the subject, please?”

Cameron was more than just a bit drunk when he came back into his house.  
It was hard to believe that he had spent almost 10 hours with Roger. With a gay man.

When Roger called about the broken gate and told him that Alexander was gone, it was his bad conscience that had led him to the farm. Because he had known what Alexander was up to, because he had put Roger in danger with his silence.  
And then the man had been so completely different than Cam had imagined him to be. Not at all poofy.  
He could work hard, wasn`t afraid of dirt and sweat. Not some arrogant, rich guy from the city. A country man. But still not a farmer.  
Cam chuckled.  
Yeah, you old bastard, you like him. You're just becoming friends, the pop star fag and you.  
Oh, thinking of pop stars…  
He called his daughter, Molly. And he would not tell her that she had the same name as a very fat sheep.

“Hey, girl. It’s dad. I have to ask you something. Have you ever heard of a band called Duran Duran?”  
When he ended the call about an hour later, he whistled through his teeth.

We were big, Roger had said.  
Oh wow, they indeed were!

The next day, he drove to the town library. They also had videos there, and a room where you could watch them. That was good, because Cam didn't even own a television.  
For the first time in his life, at the age of 67, Cameron Jones watched music videos. 

The music was not necessarily his taste, but it confirmed what Cameron had thought.

Roger Andrew Taylor, his full name, as Molly told him, was not a farmer.  
He was a drummer.  
That was his place, you could see that.  
And running away from his destiny just because he was gay was stupid.

Once a week Roger did a bulk purchase. Food for himself, food for the animals, and whatever else was needed. 

Afterwards he always visited his parents and stayed for dinner.

Enough time for Cam, especially since he had help.

"You gotta be kidding me, Dad. Does Roger Taylor really live here? "

"I told you about those two fags. And you remember Alexander Collins, don`t you?”

“You don't say fags, Dad. What exactly do we actually do here?”

“We look for his drums. He told me that he still has a drum set, but he doesn't use it, the idiot. It must be standing around in some cellar or shed, gathering dust. We look for it, we find it, I clean it and we set it up somewhere.”

“You can`t be serious! We can't just break in here. We are committing a crime!” Molly was slightly panicking.

“We are not, because I have a key. We are neighbours after all.” He hesitated, shook his head, then smiled. “ And friends, I guess.”

They found it in the attic. Dusty, full of cobwebs and bat shit.  
Cameron went to get a bucket of water and rags so they could clean it up before they carried it down.  
Roger had taken the dogs with him, so Cam only noticed the car when it drove into the yard.

Molly came running down the stairs.

"Shit, someone's coming, we gotta go!"

"We're not doing anything illegal, Molly!"

"Oh, yeah? Did Roger give you permission to search his whole house? Did Roger give you permission to touch his drum kit?” She stilled, staring out of the kitchen window, eyes going big.  
“OH MY FUCKING GOD.”  
Her grip around Cameron`s wrist was almost painful.

Two men had got out of the car and looked around.  
“You know them?” Cam wondered.  
She nodded.  
The men came towards the front door.  
“Molly, who`s this?”

“ The founding members of Duran Duran have found their drummer.”

Cameron turned off the water, the bucket had almost overflowed, grinned and went to the door.

Fate could be an asshole. But sometimes it had perfect timing

“Gentlemen”, he greeted the visitors. “What a luck that you are just passing by! I suppose you know something about drums?”

Not even an hour later a shiny Tama drum set stood right in the middle of Roger`s living room. It looked almost new.

The two of them had not asked any questions, they had simply given a hand.

Cam thought highly of it, but he intended to explain everything to them.  
For the moment, however, it looked as if this explanation would have to wait a little longer, because the men were standing reverently in front of the drums.  
“Fuck, Nick, I'm going to cry.”

The smaller one just nodded, letting out a shivering sob.

Cameron understood. He put one arm around Molly and led her out.

Firstly, he wanted to give them a moment alone, and secondly, Molly was not to be present at the following conversation.

After his daughter's baby blue VW beetle had disappeared around the corner, he slowly counted to ten and went back to the living room.  
They were still standing there. The tall one, John, had one arm around his friend. These two were very close, that was obvious. Yet they were certainly not a couple, so much Cam could tell.  
“Please sit down, gentlemen. We need to talk. Roger won't be back before midnight and he probably won't like me telling you all this. But I think it's important. I'll go make some coffee. I hope you brought plenty of time.”

“We have all time in the world,” the smaller man, Nick, said.

While the coffee maker was running, Cam thought of how to start this conversation.

When he finally sat opposite Roger`s former band mates, he asked:

“Do you know Rock Hudson?”

“The actor? Sure, who doesn`t.” John furrowed his brows. He probably wondered what this question was about.

“I am a big fan of Rock Hudson, you know. I was really grieving when he died. Although I was pretty shocked that he was gay. He cleverly hid that, didn't he? Most of his life. That's actually pretty sad. Do you think that nowadays you still have to hide it if you want to be successful as an actor? Or singer? Or musician?”

“Well, I am gay, and I am a musician. So, no, I don`t think you have to hide it nowadays.” Nick said, and Cam almost dropped his mug.

“You are? Since when?”

“Since forever, I guess.”

“No, I mean, when did you came out? When did you let everyone know?”

“Hmmm…that was 1987, I think. Mister Jones, I really don't want to be rude, but...”

“It would almost be funny if it wasn't so sad! One year later! A single year later!"

“A year later than what?” Nick slowly became impatient.

"A year after he left. Your drummer left because he's gay. Your drummer left because he thought a gay man couldn't play in a world famous band. Your drummer left because he thought he would ruin your career if he came out.”

“I cannot believe what you are saying!” The small blonde stared at him in awe.

“You will have to, because it is the truth. Roger moved here six years ago, then he met Alexander, who moved in with him four years ago. Alexander left him two months ago, which is really no great loss, because he is an asshole. He cheated on him. Roger had to have an HIV test. He is negative, thank God. Roger says he was given a new life, and that's when the two of you show up. And not only that. You show up here the moment we found his drums, Molly and I. Tell me, gentlemen, do you believe in fate?”

“Would you excuse me for a minute?” Nick had turned frighteningly pale and was visibly struggling to find his composure, then stormed out.

John let out a shivering breath.  
“Cameron, right? Is it ok to call you Cameron? Why did you take the drums from the attic?”

“Because I have understood that it is his destiny. A destiny he thought he had to sacrifice because he is gay. Because he said he had been given a new life. And he should do with this life what he really wants to do and I am convinced that what he really wants to do is play drums.”

“You are a real friend, Cameron. It's nice to know that our Roger has such a friend.”

“I guess I am. A friend. That's amazing, because I don't really like fags that much. But Roger is special.”

“Sure he is. So is Nick. He`s my best friend and I don`t give a fuck about him being gay.”

“Shouldn't you check on him? He was very pale.”

“He's okay. He just needs to understand what you told us first. You know, he's been looking for Roger for a long time. Ever since he left, actually.”

“You think he's into Roger? I mean, they're both gay...”

John laughed.  
“He has not seen Roger for over 14 years. How could he be into him?”

“But it would be kind of nice, right? A happy ending, so to speak.”

“That's right. It would be kind of nice. Tell me about Roger. What does he do? What does he look like?”

“I do not know very much about him. But what I do know, I like to tell. Why don't you bring your friend back in first?”

It was five minutes after midnight when Roger pulled up beside Cam`s old truck.  
Apparently his neighbour was having a party, because the house was brightly lit and next to the ugly, dirty car was an Aston Martin.  
Roger grinned. Somehow it was nice not to come into an empty house, even if it was kind of strange that Cam was here.  
Rio and Khanada ran straight into the living room as soon as he had opened the front door.

Laughter and music.

“Who said you could have a party here without me, Ca...” He almost crashed into a drum kit. His drum kit. Why was it in the middle of the living room, why...

"Roger! My God, Roger!"

His jaw dropped. He forgot to breathe.  
Arms closed around him. Long arms.  
A sob rose from his throat, but it got stuck.  
John. That was John.  
He leaned against him, overwhelmed, speechless, stunned.  
And happy. So incredibly happy.  
They both cried a little.  
At some point John hesitantly let go of him.  
"Wouldn't you like to say hello to Nick?"

His tear-stained eyes fell on the man next to John, whom he had not noticed until now.  
Nick smiled at him. His kohl was smeared with tears.  
A laugh that sounded more like a sob escaped Roger's throat.  
He pulled the petite man close. The just dried up tears flowed again.

“Oh, Roger! Roger, you stubborn jackass. You idiot! It is so incredibly wonderful to see you!”

Somehow Nick's words didn't make much sense, but it was actually wonderful. It was overwhelming to see them again.  
When he stepped back, his shoulder was patted gently.  
“I'll leave you guys alone. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about. I'll take Rio and Khanada with me, so you can relax.” Cam whistled for the dogs and left.

“Rio and Khanada?” Nick chuckled.

“I had a little sentimental fit. How the hell did you find me?”

“We got a tip from the greengrocer in the village. We've been looking all over for you, man, but it never occurred to us that you might be in Castle Bromwich.”

“It`s home.” Roger shrugged. “Always been. The greengrocer is an asshole! Everybody kept quiet, everybody knew I didn't want to be found, but this fucking asshole not only fucked around with my boyfriend, no, he...oh.”

“It`s ok. We know that you`re gay. Cam told us. By the way, cheating on your boyfriend seems to be in fashion right now. I caught my lover in bed with the concierge last month. In my bed! In my flat. A pity. I really thought that Ramon and I could have been something.”

“Ramon?”

“Spanish, very sexy, very charming accent.”

“Wait a second…you are gay?”

“As the night is dark. I don't know, maybe because at a very young age I was surrounded by four very attractive men. And then relatively quickly there were only two left. John is my best friend and Simon is just not my type, so I had to look elsewhere, didn't I?” Nick winked.

“I have to sit; my legs feel like jelly.”  
That was too much. It was all just too much.

Roger tossed and turned in his bed, couldn`t find the needed sleep. They had talked until sunrise and it was as if they had never been apart. Now Nick and John slept in the guest room.  
Nick and John.  
They had found him.  
They wanted Duran reunited.  
Nick was gay.  
Fuck.  
He didn't have to go. He never had to go.  
The fear of coming out had taken away what was really important to him. His friends. The music. The drums.  
But he had been given a new life. He could start anew. He could make music, be part of this band.  
Fuck, that was huge.  
His emotions went crazy, a startling mixture of happiness and regret.  
And then there was Xander. The anger and grief when he thought about him.  
It was impossible to find rest, so he slipped into a pair of worn trainers and a washed-out shirt and tapped barefoot for the kitchen to make some coffee.  
But someone had already made coffee. He could smell it as he went down the stairs.  
The sight of Nick sitting at the table made him smile.  
Had he ever seen him without make-up? Or in short trousers? He didn`t think so.  
Nick smiled back at him, and it was a very nice smile.  
“I hope you don't mind that I helped myself? I couldn't sleep. John snores.”

“You are my guest. My house is your house. Is there any coffee left?”

“Sure. It's fresh, I just came down.” 

The coffee was hot and strong, just how Roger liked it.  
They drank in silence for a while, sitting opposite each other.  
“So, Alexander, huh? You miss him?” Nick eventually asked.

“Xander. He hated being called Alexander. Yes, I miss him, although it hasn't been very nice between us in the last few months he's been living here. I slept in the guest room, that makes me totally angry, because this is my house after all.”

“You've always been far too yielding, far too kind for this cruel world, Roger. I thought that's why you left. Too much pressure, too much stress. I could have screamed in rage when Cameron said you left because you were gay. We could have been a team. Two fags against the rest of the world.”

“Maybe. But I just wasn't ready for it then. I was scared. I was a coward. I had to find myself first, I guess.”

“When did you realize? That you are into men?”

“When I was 13 or 14, but I didn't want to admit it for a long time, I suppressed it. My first sex was when I was 20. And it was terrible. I briefly thought about becoming a monk.”

“You were already our drummer then.”

“Aye. And it happened in the rest rooms of the Rumrunner. Isn`t that romantic?”

“Oh no, what a cliché.” Nick chuckled.

“The band rehearsal the next day was quite painful, I tell you. Man, he was big, if you know what I mean.”

“You poor thing!”

“I can't help it, Nick Rhodes, but I think you sound pretty damn gloating.”

Nick grinned. Roger grinned back, and then they broke out in laughter.  
It felt good, laughing together.

“Wanna see my sheep?” asked Roger as they wiped the tears of laughter from their eyes.

“Is this some kind of rural pickup line?”

“It`s a simple question, you freak. I have to check on things anyway. Would you like to come along?”

“I`m not dressed properly.”

“I don't think that bothers the sheep much. Let me just write a note for John, in case he wakes up.”

They left the house together, barefoot.  
"It's really nice here. So peaceful.” Nick took a deep breath. The air was so pure. He hadn't breathed such fresh air in a long time.

“I needed that. This calm. No people.”

“But you know that this will change when you come back? Please tell me you really want this. Coming back. Being in the spotlight again.”

“I think the time is right. I need a change.”

“Good!”

“Do you miss your Spaniard?”

“Not at all. It was nothing serious yet. I missed John much more when he went to America. I was offended and angry. But he had to do this.”

“He came back.”

“And I can't tell you how happy I am about it. I sometimes think that John will remain the only man in my life.”

“Don't say that. You're beautiful, you're smart, I bet the guys are lining up for you.”

“I am a very complicated person, Roger. No one has ever stuck with me for long.”

“Would you want that? Something serious?”

“Isn't that what we all want? Even if we don't admit it? Sharing your life with someone? Grow old with someone?”

Roger nodded. The thought of Xander clouded this beautiful day.  
“Thinking about him, are you? That asshole who betrayed you and scared you. Stop it. The son of a bitch doesn't deserve you.”

“I know. It`s just…I thought he was the one. The one to grow old and grey with.”

“Well, he obviously wasn`t. My goodness. Is that a sheep? It`s huge!”

“That`s Molly. Molly got fat after Adalbert has mated Iris . She had twins. Iris. Twins are rare in sheep. I think that frustrated poor Molly terribly, since then she prefers the pleasures of food to those of the flesh.”

Nick giggled. Honestly, he giggled. It wasn`t a chuckle, it was a giggle. And somehow Roger found it incredibly cute. Adorable, even.  
“You really like these creatures, don't you?”

“Oh, please, don't call them creatures. They have gentle souls. I mean, look at them. Aren`t they cute? A little stupid maybe, but cute. And fluffy.”

Nick laughed softly. It was almost as adorable as the giggle.  
“You are cute. The way you talk about them, how much you like them, that's sweet.”

Oh.  
“I…uh… I have to see if they have enough water left. They don't need much, but it's getting hot today, and...I'll just check.”  
What the hell was that? Nick made him blush, made him stutter.  
Roger`s heart pounded like mad.  
No, that was crazy. That was…no. Impossible.  
He bent over the sheep's trough, glanced cautiously over his shoulder at Nick.

Nick stood leaning against the gate he had repaired with Cam. And Nick was clearly staring at his butt.

Apparently he liked the sight of Roger bent over the trough.  
He didn`t even look away when their eyes met.  
They looked at each other. One second, two, three...  
Roger pushed his butt out a little more.  
Fuck, holy fuck, what the hell am I doing here? Am I hitting on Nick? And that even rather unsubtly? 

Holy shit, I'm sticking my ass out to him! I…  
Something big and fluffy knocked him over and he landed in the middle of the trough.  
“Molly! You stupid…ack! Fuck!”  
Nick laughed. His laughter sounded a bit hoarse, sexy. Very different from the cute giggle.

“Baa” 

“Shut up, Molly!”

“Baa baa baa”

“I will put you on a diet, I swear!”

Another laugh joined Nick`s, and there was John.  
Apparently he had gone looking for them. As Roger climbed out of the trough cursing, he wondered whether he was relieved or disappointed about John's appearance.  
On the way back he walked in front of them. Not to get them wet, of course, not for Nick to look at his ass.  
He was confused. Confused beyond all measure. And a little bit horny.  
John and Nick behind him chuckled softly.

Back in the house, he headed straight for the shower, but stopped shortly at the upper step.  
“When you`re done laughing, you could make us something to eat, huh?”

In the spacious bathroom, he peeled the wet clothes off and stared at himself in the large mirror.

Not bad, was it? Hard work keeps you fit.  
He has been outdoors a lot; it has been a beautiful summer until now. Some people spent a lot of money for such a tan and went to expensive gyms for such muscles.  
Roger laughed quietly at himself and climbed into the shower cubicle, shaking his head.

Dressed in nothing but short, faded blue jeans….yeah, that was pathetic. And confusing. And a little bit horny…he went down the stairs, then stopped when he heard John and Nick talking while they worked in the kitchen.  
“These are very fresh eggs, Nick. From happy hens. Do you think we can stay here for a while? I like it here. What do you think is on the upper floor?”

“Cam said there were going to be guest rooms. Rog and that asshole wanted to open a B&B.”

“Oh, that would be nice! it`s a wonderful place for a B&B.”

“No , it wouldn`t. He can`t have a B&B, he will be busy drumming. Recording with us. Touring with us.”

“Man! That sounds amazing, huh? I missed him. Like, a lot. He looks good, don`t you think?”

“Good is not exactly the word I would choose, Nigel, but yeah, he does.”

“How did he actually end up in this trough? God, that was funny!”

“Molly threw him in.”

“Cam`s daughter?”

“The sheep. The big fat sheep.”

Roger grinned, heart starting to pound again. Drumming. Recording. Touring. For real?  
He took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen.  
“Ah, there you…are!” A very short, hardly noticeable faltering. It could have been imaginary if it wasn't for the soft pink that spread across Nick's cheeks.

“Bloody hell, Nicholas, look at that man! Dude! What do I have to do to look like this? Honestly, it's frustrating. I run to the gym three times a week and my arms are as thin as matches.”

“Stay until the sheep shearing season and try to hold on to Molly. Clear trees uprooted by the storm from the road, repair fences and carry feed bags.”  
God, he so knew he was babbling. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid. What was that about? Why the hell didn't he put on a fucking T-shirt? And he couldn't have found any shorter pants, no?  
“Talking of feed bags, I'm going to feed the chickens. Won't be long, I'll be right back.” He fled. There was no other word for it. He fled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About this chapter:
> 
> I once read somewhere that Roger studied agriculture after he left, and I have already mentioned this in another story.
> 
> I don't know if it's true.
> 
> What is definitely true is that bracken is toxic to cattle, sheep and horses.
> 
> The things you learn when writing fanfic. Amazing!

Tarzan, the cock, marched through his empire, the enclosure, with a proudly swollen chest. Vain, his feathers shaking, showing off for his little harem.

“Man, Tar, buddy, I'm acting like you. This is so silly.” The chickens came running and he scattered feed, patting a chicken head here and there.  
Cam would surely have vomited if he knew Roger was stroking his chickens. The chickens who all had names.

He had barely made it back into the kitchen, when a car pulled up. Xander`s car.  
“Not now! Fuck, not now! ”Roger blurted.

Xander got out, the passenger door opened.  
He actually dared to bring the greengrocer here!  
“Is that him? The asshole?” Nick asked quietly.

“In flesh and blood, and he brought his new boyfriend.”

“ This is absolutely tasteless!” A warm hand laid on his arm, squeezing gently.

He just walked in, just like that, with his lover. As if he belonged here, as if he had the right to ever enter this house again.  
“ I won't bother you for long, Seth and I just want to pick up the rest of my stuff.” No greeting. They faced each other like strangers. And somehow that was the case. This was no longer the man he had loved. He became calm, very calm.

“You have no more stuff here, Alexander,” he said friendly. “Nice to meet you, Seth.”

Seth blinked, obviously confused.  
Kill them with kindness.

“What do you mean? All my books are here.”

“They are not, I burned them.” He smiled while saying this. It felt good.

“You did WHAT? Roger, are you crazy?”

Oh God, that really felt fucking good!

“I do not think I am crazy. I think it's fair to burn your stupid books after you fucked Seth in Cam's shed, after I was terrified of this HIV test. Don't you think that was fair, Alexander? And now I'm asking you to leave. Because I have guests, as you may have noticed, and we were about to eat. And if I were you, I wouldn't come back here.”

Xander…Alexander…gasped for air. He looked like a fish. Then he stormed out, Seth hot on his heels, and they drove away with screeching tyres.

Roger laughed. He felt liberated. Alexander Collins was no longer part of his life, and that was a good thing. 

“I think you let him get away far too easily.” Nick grinned. “You should have kicked him in the balls at least once.”

“I`m not the brutal kind of guy, Nick.”

“No. No, you aren`t. You are gentle and kind, you are wonderful.” Nick`s smile was. Wonderful. His eyes were, his…

“You burned his books?” John chuckled, obviously unaware of that magic moment between them.

“I did. And thereby I heard Arena, and it was great.”

“Arena is a masterpiece! The rhythm section is brilliant.”

“Best rhythm section ever!” Roger nodded, beaming at the tall bassist.  
They were great together. And they would be great again.

After they had eaten, Nick retired to the guest room to get some more sleep, which reminded Roger that he could use some sleep himself.  
“That ok with you, John? Leaving you all alone?”

“Sure. I`ll go for a walk. Maybe I'll go see Cameron. Or is there anything else I could do here? Anything that needs to be done?”

“Thanks for asking, but for now everything is taken care of. I'm just gonna lie down for a minute, okay?”

A minute. The longest minute in history.  
Roger jumped up as if stung by an adder, slightly disoriented in the dark room. In the very dark room.  
Fuck! It was night. He had overslept. The animals! Fucking shit!  
He raced down the stairs, almost falling, because getting into your pants when running wasn`t that easy. He slipped barefoot into his work boots in the hall and pulled open the front door.  
Joyful barking welcomed him, Khanada and Rio jumped up on him wagging their tails.  
“I'm sorry, girls, I totally forgot about you! You must be starving.”

“I fed them.” Nick`s deep voice came out of the dark and a torch was lit.  
“I turned off all the lights because of the stars. To see them better. Looked great, but unfortunately it is cloudy now. I did not know it could be so dark.”

“I have to…The chickens have to go into the henhouse overnight, there are foxes…I have to…”

“Roger, calm down! John and Cameron took care of everything. Apparently, you needed sleep badly.”

“Oh, isn`t it great? Now Cam can consider me a completely incompetent popstar faggot again!”

“He doesn`t. He likes you. Nice guy. A little grumpy maybe, but nice. Come on. Let's go inside, I'm freezing. It gets pretty cold in the night.”

“What time is it?”

“Around two, I guess. I didn't bring a watch. Are the dogs staying outside?”

Roger switched on the light in the hallway and nodded.  
“They stay with the sheep. Why aren't you asleep?”

“I slept late. I am a night person.”

“You will have the greatest joy when Tarzan wakes you up at sunrise.”

“Who`s Tarzan?”

“My cock.”

Nick`s brows shot up, mouth twitching.  
“Your cock has a name?”

“Yeah, of c…oh. God! The! The cock! The rooster!” Roger felt his cheeks burn. That was ridiculous! And embarrassing. Oh, God.

“What a pity. I'm sure it would be nice to be woken by your cock.”

“I`m gonna make us coffee.” Yet again, he fled. Nick`s soft laughter followed him.  
God, that was crazy!  
He behaved like a stupid schoolboy, not a grown man.  
Nick made him so damn nervous.

And again he only wore pants, again he ran around with his shirt off. No wonder Nick thought he was hitting on him.  
Yeah, dumbass, that's exactly what you do, isn't it? You're hitting on Nick. In a shamefully cheap sort of way. You stick your butt out to him, show your muscles, strut around like a fucking vain peacock…

“Let me.” Nick gently took the coffee spoon from his trembling hand; half of the coffee powder had landed on the counter.  
“Sit down, Roger. You know what? I don't really feel like having coffee. Do you have wine? Can we have a glass of wine together? There`s nothing like a heavy red and a good conversation.”

“I'll get some.”

“No. You tell me where the wine is, and I'll get it.”

“There is a wine rack in the pantry, next to the kitchen.”

“Fab.” Nick returned with a bottle, studying the label. “It`s local. Interesting. I did not know that there were vines here.”

“It is a very small vineyard about 20 miles from here. I get a few boxes of it every year. Glasses are in the cupboard; the corkscrew is in the drawer on the right.”

Only minutes later, they sat opposite each other. Roger avoided looking at Nick. He still felt incredibly stupid.

“Did you know that John and I cried like babies after we set up your kit? It was so overwhelming.”

“I could hardly breathe when I came in and you were there.”

“Why didn't you ever get in touch, Roger?”

“It would have hurt too much. I was done with the band.”

“But we were not just a band, Roger! We were friends! I've been looking for you for almost 14 years. And I was damn mad at you. Disappearing like that. Without a word! You could have been dead and we wouldn't even have known it.”

“Please, Nick, let's not talk about the past. I've made mistakes. But I needed this, okay? I just needed this. I can understand you being mad at me, but...”

“I wish I could be mad at you. I wanted to be mad at you. But then you came through the door, and you almost ran into your drum kit, and you were so... God, Roger!”

The air between them became thick as syrup when Roger finally lifted his gaze to meet Nick`s.  
They were alone. No sheep, no John, no ex-boyfriend-asshole.  
Alone. For the first time since…ever.  
“You are so beautiful.” Roger whispered, because it was nothing but the utter truth. 

“You are killing me, you know that? Stop fucking doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Turning me on and then ditching me! You've been doing that all day and I'm going to start drooling if you don't stop being so damn sexy.”

“I`m not ditching you! I…you are making me nervous. You're totally messing me up! You're Nick, damn it, and we just met again yesterday and I'm acting like a bitch in heat and I…”

“Hi guys, you're still up? I wanted to get a glass of water.” A sleepy John plodded into the kitchen. “Ah, wine. I miss wine sometimes, you know?”

That was crazy. Everything about that day was crazy, and Roger decided that it was enough.  
He took his glass and the bottle and stood up.  
"You coming, Nick? Take your glass with you. Good night, John.”

“Where are you going?” John wondered.

“To my bedroom. You can lock it up and it is completely free of sheep, chickens and bass players.”

Roger did not look back on the way to his bedroom, he knew that Nick would follow him.  
Nick was absolutely right, these silly things had to end. After all, he was no longer a stupid schoolboy and contrary to rumours, he wasn`t particularly shy. Who was he kidding?  
He wanted this man, and apparently, this feeling was mutual.  
What did it matter that they actually did not know each other at all? Not anymore.  
They were gay.  
Gays had spontaneous sex, right?  
Fuck, he had been deflowered in a public restroom.

Nick came into the room directly behind him, closed the door and leaned against it. He swirled the wine in his glass before taking a sip, watching as Roger put his own glass and the bottle on the nightstand. 

“You don't have to stand there, you know?”

“I just wanted to make sure you didn't change your mind at the last second.”

“I never meant to tease you, Nick. It`s just…I was with someone for a very long time. A sex life has been non-existent in the last few months, and it hasn't been particularly exciting for a long time before that. In short, I'm not used to being so incredibly horny on someone. And that it’s you of all people, is not very helpful either.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why didn't you have sex?”

“He was constantly tired and cranky, and he was no longer capable of more than five minutes of loveless fucking. I have nothing against passionate quickies, but that was not passion, Nick. I was just some hole. A hole to be filled with cum. And since I'm definitely not just some hole and would rather not have sex at all than something like that, I moved into the guest room.”

“Why didn't you break up much earlier?”

“Because it was different once. Because I loved him and hoped it could be like it was before. Could we please stop talking about Alexander now?”

Nick crossed the distance between them and put his glass next to Roger`s.  
Very gently he took Roger's face between his hands, looking him deep in the eyes.  
“I told you before, this asshole doesn't deserve you. You're still that reserved, quiet boy from back then, Roger, despite all those impressive muscles. It's sweet that you love your sheep so much and that you pat the heads of your chickens, it's wonderful that you're such a nice, warm person. Just be a little less quiet, a little less reserved. Be a little more like you are behind the drums. Loud, strong and powerful.”

Strong and powerful was the very last thing Roger wanted to be when Nick took his mouth.  
That`s what he did, he took his mouth. He took possession of his mouth, completely. A hot tongue explored every inch, teeth nibbling at his lips and then his mouth was fucked with deep, slow thrusts of that tongue. This kiss was consuming, demanding, controlling and oh so fucking hot.  
He whimpered as Nick backed off and cried out when he licked over his throat.  
“Nick!”

Nick laughed softly; his breath hot against his skin. The tongue licked it’s way down, caressing Roger`s collarbone. Teeth dug into Roger`s shoulder, leaving a mark on it.  
“Sweet man. Sweet, wonderful man. Let me hear you.” God, that was sexy. That voice. Like melted dark chocolate with a hint of chili. 

Xander had never been particularly talkative during sex.  
But Xander had no such voice either, so dark, so erotic.

He went to his nipples, licked, sucked and bit each of them. Roger moaned from deep inside, cock throbbing in time with the suction to his nipples.

Uh. That was…weird. This change between soft and hard. The tender tongue and the almost brutal teeth. It was painful and somehow not. Confusing.

It felt like every bite forced out a drop of pre-cum. Within a very short time his jeans were so wet as if he had already come.  
It was intense, kind of unnerving. Almost too much to bear. And it was embarrassing. To be so terribly wanton. It was slutty. 

He bit his lower lip so hard it bled to stop himself from whimpering. From begging. Begging for more, begging to stop, he didn`t know.  
“Roger!” A thumb on his lip, wiping away the blood. Beautiful eyes piercing into his. He felt exposed. Naked. Really naked.

“I…that…your voice…my jeans. They are wet. And I…God, I want!”

“Then stop holding back. Let it happen. Feel. Is it so bad for you to feel pleasure that you have to hurt yourself? I want to make you feel good, Roger, and I want to feel your pleasure, I want to see it and hear it. Be powerful, be loud."

It sounded so easy, so right, why was it so hard for him to let go?

“Let me make love to you. Let me give you what you deserve.” Ooooh, this man was so sexy it hurt!

His abs rippled as Nick`s hands explored his stomach, the touch strangely intimate. It was as if Nick was making a map of his body, as if he wanted to memorize every ridge, every bulge. Another moan escaped him when those hands opened his jeans, pulling down the zipper.  
Jeans and underpants were jerked down in one single, unexpected move and Nick dropped to his knees.  
“Look at that. Sweet man. So beautiful, so needy.”

Jesus! The things he said!

The tongue flickered over his swollen tip before he was completely swallowed.  
Completely. Swallowed.

Roger started shaking all over, he didn`t know if he would faint or come at any second. So much. So huge.  
He threw his head back and screamed. Loud, powerful.

The next thing he knew was that he was sitting on the bed, jeans pooled around his ankles, breathing heavily. Nick sat beside him, holding him.

“Fuck!” He laughed helplessly. “What the hell was that?”

“That, Roger, is what you deserve! Wine?”

“Yes, please. You just stripped me down to my bare bones, Nick Rhodes. Wow, I`m completely done`”

“Oh, we are not anywhere near of being finished yet.”

Ack! Of course not! What was wrong with him? When did he become so selfish? Nick had given him so much pleasure, and he himself was still fully dressed, almost untouched.  
He put his glass aside, then slid from the bed to kneel in front of Nick, reaching for his zipper.

Nick chuckled amused.  
“That asshole didn't do you any good, did he?”

“What?”

“Roger, let's be honest with each other, okay? You're doing this not because you want to, but because you think you have to. I blew you and now you think you should return the favour. Maybe that's how he worked. Maybe it was what he wanted, what he asked for. I'm not like that. I am not Alexander.”

Roger felt a wee bit offended and also ashamed, because Nick definitely had a point here.  
“Sooo…you don`t want a blow-job?”

“Oh, I want! I love blow-jobs, actually. What I do not want is that it is a matter of duty. You should suck my dick because it makes you horny, because you want to taste me, because you love to suck my dick.”  
Fuck. Oooooh fuck. The way he talked!

“You are so cute! How you blush, how ashamed you are. Such a strong man, blushing so sweetly. Now get rid of those jeans, Roger. I want to lick your cute little hole before I fuck you.”

It was insane. Heaven. Nick was…Nick. Nick was Nick.  
He let Roger drop all his inhibitions. Made him cry out and beg and moan, made him want.  
And yes, Roger loved it, loved it all. The salty, tangy taste of Nick`s cum, the feeling of that long, slim cock. In his arse, in his mouth or just pressed against his own.  
Nick`s thick, filthy words, the feeling of his pale, silky skin under his hands, his lips, his tongue.  
He had not known that sex could be like that. How fulfilling it was to overcome your shame and let yourself go.  
Nick had fallen asleep at sunrise, in his arms, head against his chest, smiling.

Roger himself could not sleep. Firstly, he was too agitated and secondly, he couldn't allow himself to oversleep again.

He giggled softly as Tarzan crowed. Looked like his cock wouldn't wake Nick.  
Five minutes. Only five more minutes to look at his lover, to feel his warmth.  
He felt soft and wobbly as he stood up carefully. Boneless. His throat sore from his screams, his ass fucked raw. And God, was he tired!  
But the feeling of happiness was stronger than anything else. That and a strong coffee would be enough for now to give him energy for his tasks. First he went to the sheep pasture, checked that the animals were all right, that none were sick or injured. 

It was a waste of time, because Khanada and Rio would have alerted him if anything was wrong, but it was important to him. He just liked them, the stupid sheep.

The dogs followed him back to the house where he fed them and had a second cup of coffee. He was hoping for sounds from the first floor, for a sign that Nick was awake, but everything was quiet.  
He went into the living room with his coffee and examined the drums. Everything still seemed to be in order, nothing was broken. The need to try it out was unbearable for a few seconds, but he had neither a matching stool nor drumsticks.  
Instead he devoutly stroked a finger over a shiny cymbal.  
“Soon,” he whispered.  
He downed the strong brew, then went to the henhouse to let the chickens out.

Cam`s car came to a halt in the yard and he smiled. The man seemed to enjoy being here recently.  
However, he looked quite worried when he spotted Roger and approached him.

"Good morning, Cam. Has something happened? "

"Bracken! Next to my property. We must control your pasture.”

“Fuck!”

“You can say so. Have you been checking on the sheep yet?”

“Yeah, all fit and healthy. I did not pay attention to the meadow itself, though.”

“I`m impressed, my fag-friend. You really seem to know what bracken is.”

Roger rolled his eyes.  
Of course he knew. He had studied agriculture, for fuck`s sake.  
But this was not the time to discuss it.  
Crap.  
He had hoped to get back in the house, to Nick, now it would take forever to check the pasture.  
Cam stood, fists on his hip.  
“Maybe you should wake up your fellow musicians. They could help us.”

“I hate to wake them, Cameron. They are my guests; they are not here to work.”

“They're your friends, right? Friends help each other.”

“But they don't even know what bracken is.”

“They know what fern looks like, don't they? Everyone knows what fern looks like. They should just rip out everything that looks like one.”

“I dunno, Cam…”He wanted to let them sleep. He was gonna let Nick sleep.

Cameron sighed.  
“Okay then, let me get my gloves from the car.”

Seconds later a car horn sounded. A very loud one. Over and over again.  
The old neighbour grinned cheekily at him as Roger came running to the car. He just kept honking.  
“Ooops, look who`s awake!” he chuckled eventually before he got out and went past the stunned Roger to the front door.

Roger closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  
How should he actually behave towards Nick? What was that between them? Just sex? A one-time thing?  
Oh, God, hopefully not!  
He needed a few minutes to get himself together.

Cameron, John and Nick sat at the kitchen table.

His heart leapt with joy as Nick smiled sleepily at him. He was wearing one of his shirts. It was too big for him, and it looked really cute.

“Here you are! I'll make some fresh coffee and you can explain to your boys what's going on.”

“I'm sorry. I was gonna let you sleep, but that horrible, grumpy old man...”

“Be warned, you sassy faggot, I`m not too old to put you over my knee.”

“Who knows, Cam, maybe I like it. You know we're all perverts.”

Nick grinned, brows arching, and Roger blushed heavily.  
“Er…whatever, Cameron has discovered bracken next to his property. This is a fern species that is quite poisonous to sheep, and the stuff could also be in the pasture. I know you haven't slept much, and you are guests, and…”

“Roger! Stop that. Come on, John, we'll go get dressed.”

Cam chuckled as the two had left.  
“I like the man. A man of action, not a chatterbox like you. He acts much less gay than he looks.”

Roger would not confirm that. Last night Nick had behaved extremely gay. Wonderfully gay.  
His cheeks heated up and he smiled.

“This dreamy smile and your rosy cheeks wouldn't have anything to do with Nick wearing your t-shirt, would it?”

“How the hell did you know it`s my shirt?”

“Firstly, it's much too big for him and secondly, you were wearing it when we burned Alexander's things. That was great fun by the way.”

John was the first to show up in the kitchen again.  
“Do we need anything special? Some kind of equipment?”

“Sturdy shoes and work gloves. Do you have a few here, Roger?”

“Sorry, what?”

“He is dreaming.” John grinned. “I was already allowed to admire the same expression on Nick's face. Honestly, Rog, I'm surprised you two can even stand. You guys had some fun last night, didn't you? It was quite loud, if I may say so.” 

“You're not jealous, are you, John?” Nick said as he stepped in.

“Perish the thought!” John blurted.

And then Nick was right beside Roger, leaning in to whisper into his ear: “I would love to kiss you. Is that okay with you?”  
Instead of an answer, Roger offered him his lips and they got a little lost in this kiss.

After a quick coffee, they set off.  
Cam pushed one of the two wheelbarrows and walked beside Nick, to whom he explained exactly what they were looking for.  
Roger and John were behind them.  
"You're really lucky you have Cameron."

“I am. And I never thought that was possible. I thought he hated gays. And now he's taking on two of us.”

“Sometimes it isn't hate but only the fear of something you don't know.”

“Wise words, John Taylor.”

Three hours later everything was checked. No poisonous fern on the meadow.  
Cam rolled his eyes when Roger happily hugged Molly.

The time had come. Four days after Nick and John showed up at the farm and more than a decade since he last sat behind the drums. He had a stool, he had sticks, he was ready to play. Was he?  
He was a little nauseous, his legs were weak.  
John, Cam and Nick sat on the sofa and looked at him excitedly.

Oh, God! What if he had forgotten how to do it? What if he just couldn't do it anymore?  
He carefully tested the pedal, closed his eyes, breathed deeply, then twirled a stick.

“Oooh, I love when he does that! It`s so cool!”

“Shut up, John, he has to focus.”

Roger smiled. He so loved Nick`s voice.  
Another deep breath. A light tap on the snare, then the tom-toms.  
And then it was as if a large lump in his chest came loose. This was his instrument. He was a drummer. He would always be a drummer.  
Strong. Booom  
Loud. Boom.  
Powerful. Boom.  
“YES!” he screamed. “One, two , three, four!”  
He let go.

Cameron covered his ears.  
Man, that was loud!  
Nick and John beside him hugged each other, laughed, cried.  
The old man grinned.  
You couldn't escape your fate.  
Not even if you were a fag.


End file.
